


to reach a port we must set sail

by thedeathchamber



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Louis, Daddy Kink, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:08:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26501902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedeathchamber/pseuds/thedeathchamber
Summary: On holiday in Southern Italy, Louis and Henry go on a special outing.-Or, Louis and Henry, Italy, a coffee shop, and a sailing boat.
Relationships: Henry Cavill/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 21
Kudos: 84





	to reach a port we must set sail

“Will this do?” Henry opens the door for Louis, one hand spread on the small of his back as he follows him inside, a tinkling bell announcing their presence.

“It’s cosy anyway,” Louis replies, taking in the small coffee shop. Henry might have described it as cramped rather than cosy, especially if there had been other patrons, but the display of pastries looks appetising enough at least. He notices how Louis’ eyes linger on the red and white checkered curtains, a corner of his mouth twitching tellingly. “Quaint,” he pronounces, deadpan, but not unkindly.

Henry chuckles. “Authentically Italian,” he says with a grin.

Louis breathes out a laugh. “No doubt.” A soft smile on his face, he looks up at Henry, knuckling one eye, languid and delicate. “Coffee smells amazing.”

Intercepting his hand as he lowers it to readjust his jumper on his narrow shoulders, Henry presses a quick kiss to his knuckles. “I’d apologise for keeping you up late last night, but…” His grin turns suggestive, and he lets out a delighted laugh when Louis blushes and gives him a light, playful shove—also intended to get him moving toward the booth farthest from the door. He knows Louis wants to avoid being right next to the door draft if more customers start coming in.

“You could apologise for waking me up so early?” Louis slides into the booth seat against the wall, and immediately reaches for the sugar packet holder to fidget with.

“A necessary evil, angel.” Henry says with a quiet laugh as he sits down in the seat across, spreading his legs as best he can and throwing an arm around the back of the seat. “But it’ll be worth it—I hope,” he adds jokingly.

The early morning sunlight filtering through the curtains lends Louis’ skin a rosy glow, and deepens the blue of his eyes, framed by their long, thick eyelashes—he smiles, sweet and reassuring—‘Definitely’—and for a moment all Henry can do is marvel at his luck.

“ _Buongiorno._ ” A stout middle aged woman greets them, wiping floured hands on a red checkered apron. 

For a second Louis catches his eye, darting a glance between the curtains and the apron in silent communication. Amused, Henry answers with a quirked eyebrow, and is gratified when Louis has to press his lips tight to hold in a grin.

The woman offers them a grimace that might pass for a smile when they both return her greeting in Italian. “ _Americani_?” she hazards, eyeing Louis’ unseasonal jumper. Henry knows he will be out of it by eleven o’clock at the latest, but Louis runs cold, and it’s still too cool for him. 

“ _Inglesi_ ,” Henry clarifies, biting back laughter at Louis’ scrunched up nose. 

The woman shrugs—it clearly makes little difference to her. “You want breakfast, yes?” she asks in an accented voice. “Yes? _Caffè_?” 

“A latte, please,” Louis says, hands stilling as her eyes drop to where he was fiddling with the sugar packets. 

“ _Latte_?” She shakes her head. “No. _Caffè_ —Cappuccino? It’s good.” 

“Um, alright.” 

“ _E tu_?” 

“Espresso is fine, thank you.”

Once she leaves them, with a curt nod, Louis and Henry exchange another look. “What _are_ we having?” Louis asks with a giggle. “Besides coffee?”

“I guess we’ll find out.” Henry watches as Louis sets aside a packet of brown sugar. “Are you sure you’re OK with cappucino, love?” he asks quietly. “It won’t be any trouble to call her back and order your latte.” 

Though Louis hunches his shoulders, self conscious, he doesn’t avoid Henry’s gaze and there’s no nervous tension in his smile. “I’m sure, Henry. When in Rome and all that…” he says lightly.

Henry nods, chuckling. “Alright then.”

An unexpected crash in the back room makes Louis stiffen, barely noticeable, but impossible for Henry to miss. “Just a dropped plate, baby.” 

Louis nods, and after a long moment tears his eyes away from the closed door behind the counter. “You know what I was thinking?” he says abruptly.

“What’s that?”

“I think you could pass for Italian. You’ve got that… Roman look.” he muses, running a finger down the line of his own nose, before breaking into a teasing grin.

“Thank you... I think?”

Louis’ shoulders shake with laughter. “You know that’s the main reason I married you, that you look like a ancient Roman statue.”

Laughing, Henry leans in to whisper: “But better endowed.” He can’t look away from Louis as he giggles into one hand, fingers curled in against the palm. “I’m well aware,” he says finally, half hiding his smile with the back of his hand. 

The arrival of their breakfast puts a stop to Henry's momentary impulse—dazed by Louis' loveliness—to propose all over again.

“All good?”

“It looks fantastic,” Louis answers, earnest and sweet as always, enough the woman even graces him with a real smile alongside her nod, before leaving them to it. Besides the coffee there is a warm croissant for each and a pair of cream sweet buns.

Humming in pleasure at the first bite, Henry raises an eyebrow playfully in response to Louis’ amused look over his cup, making him set down his coffee as he breathes out a soft laugh.

“How’s the cappuccino?”

“It’s good, yeah.” Louis takes another careful sip that tells Henry it’s probably more fine than good, while eyeing him as he reaches for one of the buns. “But you’re going to be starving by lunchtime, Henry.”

“I’ll be fine, angel. And this is my second breakfast, actually. You were asleep, but I ate something before we left the hotel.”

“Right. You woke up at six to exercise.” Louis makes a face, reaching for the glass of water served with Henry’s espresso. “How are you even awake?” 

Henry raises his tiny cup, tilting his head to one side with a raised eyebrow. “Coffee, of course.” 

Louis shakes his head even as he giggles. “What was I thinking, marrying a morning person?”

“I don’t know, but every day I’m thankful you did,” Henry replies earnestly, reaching for his hand on the table, enveloping it in his own larger one.

“You're sticky,” Louis says, but rather than extricate himself, he curls his fingers around Henry’s and smiles down at their clasped hands shyly.

After they finish their breakfast, they take a walk along the promenade down to the pier… to the boat. It isn’t a surprise—they had talked about it—but Henry still finds himself watching Louis’ reaction, jaw tight with concern. He can’t see his eyes behind the sunglasses, but his shoulders are a little rounded, and he holds his hands clasped to his chest as he looks _Fearless_ over. 

“Alright, love?” Stepping forward to stand behind him, Henry wraps his arms around his waist, leaning down to hold him close.

“Mhm.” Louis’ hands feel a little clammy when he reaches up to hold onto Henry’s forearms. “Different boat, different sea.” He twists to peer over his shoulder, squinting up at Henry over his sunglasses. “It was just a scare. I’m fine.”

Henry turns him around completely to look into his face, cupping his cheek in one hand. “Sure?” he asks worriedly.

Louis gets on his tip toes to give him a quick kiss. “Yes.”

“Right then.” Moving around him to the gangway, he holds out one hand. “Come aboard, princess,” he says teasingly, earning himself an eye roll, but also a blush. 

Once the sailing yacht is out of the harbour, Louis disappears into the cabin to change, while Henry takes them out to sea, calm and assured—he has been at the helm of a boat for the best part of his life, and had picked _Fearless_ especially for shorthanded cruising. 

“Mimosas are a morning drink, aren’t they?” Louis surfaces with drinks for both of them, dressed in an oversized tee shirt and swimming shorts.

Henry takes his glass with a smile. “You even got the orange slice garnish.” After a taste of the cocktail, he brings Louis in by the waist for a kiss. “Delicious.”

“I think they came out pretty decent,” he replies, smiling bashfully, looking at him from beneath his eyelashes. 

Deliberately putting their glasses to a side, Henry bends down to kiss him again. His hands slide under Louis’ shirt, around his waist and down his back to squeeze his arse, half lifting him onto his tiptoes. 

Louis’ breath hitches. “Henry!” he gasps, steadying himself with both hands spread on Henry’s broad chest, clutching at his shirt.

“Sorry, baby.”

Louis laughs. “No you’re not.”

“Not terribly,” Henry admits with a playful shrug and a crooked grin. 

With a light backhanded slap to his chest, Louis moves toward the deck couch with his mimosa back in hand. “Will we… stop for a swim?” he asks as he lies down on his side, knees together and one foot tucked into the other.

The pause is minimal, but not lost on Henry. “That was the plan, if you’re up for it.”

“Mhm. Yeah, of course.” 

For a while Henry alternates between looking out at Louis and at the sea, reveling in sailing again after a long stretch on land, at peace and content with his husband at his side and the wind in his hair. 

They are nearing a good place to stop when Louis catches his eye—only to immediately drop his gaze, ducking his head. “Thank you, Henry, for this trip.”

“Angel, you don’t have to thank me.” Henry shakes his head. “It’s a big occasion.” 

“A celebratory dinner would have sufficed.”

“No, it would not,” he replies simply with a smile.

“I still can’t believe it.” Louis tugs at his hair where it feathers behind his ear in an absent, nervous gesture. His voice quivers. “That I’ve got my PhD… finally, after… everything.” 

Henry walks over to crouch in front of him, and taking his free hand brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand. “I’m so proud of you, Louis. You’re a marvel, angel.” 

Chin to his chest still, Louis mouths ‘no’ but there’s a faint smile on his face when Henry stands up. 

“This seems like a good place to drop anchor.” 

Louis sits up straight. “Yeah?”

Together they secure the boat, and drop the swim platform at the stern. When Henry goes down to the cabin to change, Louis follows, wringing his hands with unmistakeable anxiety. He sits on the couch, watching as Henry pulls off his shirt, and tugs on his swimming trunks after a quick trip to the toilet. 

“You’re ridiculously fit, you know,” he comments, stretching out an arm and wiggling his fingers in invitation for Henry to come closer. 

Once he has him standing before him, he runs a hand up his thigh, the sharp vee of his hip, his muscled abdomen, tongue flicking out to wet his lips.

Henry takes his hand and tugs him to his feet. “And you’re extraordinarily beautiful.” He’s careful as he pulls the tee shirt over his head, smiling when Louis immediately reaches up to fix his fringe with delicate fingers. “A doll.”

With a faint breath of laughter, Louis hides his face against Henry’s chest.

“You don’t have to get in the water if you don’t want to, baby.” Henry reassures him as they head outside, having reapplied the sunscreen and shared a bottle of sparkling water and a couple of oranges. 

“I want to,” Louis says firmly. But when they reach the door, he hesitates. “I’m just going to take a piss, you go on.”

With a quick squeeze to his hand, Henry climbs the stairs outside. He knows to give Louis his space sometimes. 

He dives from the platform into the sea, relishing the coolness as he swims underwater until his breath runs out. When he surfaces, shaking his wet hair out of his eyes, he sees Louis standing on the platform, arms tucked in close, hands to his chest, looking down at the water uncertainly. 

Henry swims over to him. “Come here, baby?”

First lowering himself to sit on the platform, Louis takes a deep breath before jumping in the water—then paddling straight to Henry’s open arms. 

“It’s going to be OK,” Henry murmurs into his hair, quiet and gentle. 

Louis nods, but doesn’t move from where he has his arms looped around Henry’s neck and his face against his neck. 

“Water’s wonderful,” Henry remarks, tucking a bit of Louis’ hair behind his ear. 

“It is.” He can feel Louis relax a bit, and then press a warm kiss to the cool skin of Henry’s shoulder. “ _You’re_ wonderful.”

Henry lets out a quiet laugh and hugs him tighter. “I love you so much, angel.”

Pulling back to look at him, Louis gives him a tremulous smile. “I love you too.” Then he takes a deep breath and lets go of Henry, pushing himself under water.

His eyes are a little too wide, but he’s smiling when he resurfaces. 

They swim for a good while. Louis splashes him playfully, and giggles into his ear when Henry scoops him into a bridal carry and twirls them around—and only tenses and clings to him once when a group of jet skis speed past them. 

It’s the first time they have been out in the open sea since the accident. 

After a while Louis starts shivering and Henry shepherds them back on the boat. 

“We should have brought out the towels.” He wraps an arm around Louis, who burrows close while Henry checks their position before heading down to the cabin. 

“Better?” he asks once he has Louis bundled up in a large towel. 

Louis hums, nuzzling where his neck meets his shoulder, and wrestling his arms out of the towel to hug Henry’s middle. “I could use a snack, though,” he says after a moment, stepping out of their embrace to wander toward the bed at the bow; he sits on the edge, still wrapped in the towel.

“What do you fancy?” Henry asks as he steps out of his wet shorts. “Salad and some cold meats, or I could whip us up an omelette?”

“I don’t know yet… there’s something else I want first.” 

“Mm?” In the nude, he straightens to look at him inquisitively. 

Louis looks him up and down, lips parted, then tilts his head invitingly to the bed, pink in his cheeks as he fusses with his fringe. 

Henry grins, resting a hand low on his stomach, right above where the smattering of dark hair thickens at his crotch. “And what’s that, princess?” he asks, teasingly, even as his voice gets a little rough with incipient arousal.

Scooting back on the bed, Louis lies back on his elbows. “Want you, Daddy,” he replies, looking up at Henry, between bashful and coquettish.

“Baby, I’m going to give you everything you want,” Henry groans and hurries to join him on the bed. Nudging Louis flat on his back, he nips at the sensitive skin around his navel then kisses up his chest to the hollow of his throat.

Louis clutches at his shoulder with one hand, and sinks the other into the wet curls at his nape, as Henry raises himself on his hands and leans down to take his mouth in a heated kiss.

“You’re… dripping on me,” Louis says breathlessly when they break apart, and pushes Henry’s wet curls back from his forehead, bursting into a fit of giggles at Henry’s deadpan expression. 

His skin erupts into goosebumps when Henry smooths a hand along the curve of his waist to his hip. “Just wait, princess. I’m going to get you properly messy soon.” 

Sitting up on his knees with Louis between his thighs, he grabs hold of the waistband of Louis’ swimming shorts. “These can’t be comfortable.”

“Mm. No.” Louis raises his hips to wiggle out of them. “But this is going to be distinctly unattractive.”

Henry chuckles as he helps to pull them down, fighting against the cling of the wet fabric. “Yes. However will our marriage survive this moment?” Laughing, he grabs hold of his ankle when Louis pretends to give him a kick once disentangled from the shorts. “I can’t imagine,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the arch of his foot.

Louis makes an inarticulate noise when Henry sets down his foot on the bed, positioning him with his legs bent at the knee, slightly spread. His eyes flutter closed and he shivers when Henry teases the sensitive skin of the inside of his thigh and his balls, then applies light pressure right behind them. 

“Daddy…” he breathes when Henry’s fingers brush against his hole.

Henry makes a low, soothing noise. “Let me get the lube, baby.”

But Louis scrambles to sit up, and has his feet on the floor the next second. “Wait, I’ll get it. You sit back!” he calls as he dashes to the bathroom. 

Confused, Henry sits back against the pillows at the head of the bed, the top of his head almost brushing the low ceiling. He wraps a loose hand around his cock, coaxing his budding erection. 

Small bottle of lube in hand, Louis crawls onto the bed. “I want to…” Settling on his front propped on his elbows, he fidgets with his hair. 

“You want Daddy’s cock, baby?” Gripping Louis’ chin with a gentle hand, he thumbs at his bottom lip, biting his own when Louis gives a quiet moan of assent. “You know I love your pretty little mouth.”

When he settles a heavy hand on the back of his neck, he hears the catch in Louis’ breath. “Go on then.”

His hand looks small when he wraps his fingers around Henry’s cock, even though it isn’t at full hardness yet. Louis wets his lips before drawing it to his mouth, starting out with kitten licks to the head, before he gets messier and begins working his spit slick hand up and down the thick shaft. 

“Fuck.” Henry tangles his fingers in his damp hair as Louis takes him in his mouth properly, sinking down until he meets his hand. He whimpers around him, his hips moving in small circles against the bed as he sucks him. 

“Louis. On your hands and knees, baby.” Louis lets out a faint whine when he pulls off, his lips glistening, but sits up at once and moves to assume the position. “Not so far, princess.” 

He stills, glancing at Henry, round eyed and blushing, even though they’ve been married three years and have done this countless times. “Oh.”

“Hand me the lube.” 

“Yes, Daddy.” After handing him the bottle, he gets on his hands and knees, while Henry scoots down on the bed a little and wastes no time spreading him open with both hands.

Louis lowers himself onto his elbows to suckle at Henry’s cock distractedly, mewling while his hole is played with—Henry can feel his thighs trembling as he gets his hole wet and loose, first with his tongue and then with his fingers.

His own cock is aching by the time Louis is ready to take it, even though Louis had quickly given up on blowing him, reduced to panting wetly on it instead, with his face resting on his thigh. 

“Daddy, please,” he whimpers.

“Come sit on my cock—” Henry sits up against the headboard and tugs him back by the hips easily—Louis is so slight and small in comparison to him. “Easy. Just like that,” he murmurs as he guides him onto his cock, held in one fist until, sinking down inch by inch, Louis takes him all. 

Louis’ breathing comes in short gasps and moans. “Taking is so well, Louis, princess. That’s just what you wanted, isn’t it, baby?” 

“Mhm,” Louis agrees breathily. He already sounds out of it, as he lifts himself up a couple of inches and then back down. “ _Henry._ ” 

For a few minutes, Henry is mesmerised by the sight of Louis riding him, balanced with his hands on Henry's knees, slow and languid. And he can’t keep his hands off the smooth lines of his back and trim waist, his arse, so tight around his cock. 

When he falters, Henry immediately takes action, pulling him back so that he is fully seated on his cock, their bodies pressed tight together, Louis head lollng back against his shoulder. He wraps one arm around his chest and spreads the other low on his belly, where he can almost feel himself inside Louis. 

“Daddy, need to come. Please, please—I’m so close—”

“I know. I’ve got you, baby.” Henry shushes him, his voice a low rasp. “Almost there.” All it takes is a minute, Henry fucking him deep at just the right angle, and a tight hand enveloping his cock, before Louis comes with a breathless whimper.

That’s enough for Henry, who quickly manoeuvres Louis onto his hands and elbows again and comes hard on his lower back and arse until come drips over his hole. 

Louis collapses onto his stomach with a groan. “ _Fuck._ ”

Still breathing hard, Henry chuckles. “That good, hm?” 

He gets another wordless—exhausted, sated—noise for an answer.

“I’ll get something to clean you up, angel.”

When he returns with a damp hand towel, Louis peers at him from where he has his head pillowed in his arms. “Thank you, Daddy,” he says, voice soft and sweet.

“Of course, baby.” Once cleaned up, Henry kisses the top of his spine. “You burnt your shoulders a bit.”

“Mm, I can’t feel a thing,” Louis replies dreamily, making Henry laugh.

After a moment, Louis rolls onto his back, and pats the bed next to him. “Let’s cuddle?”

Laying down next to him, Henry wraps him up in his arms, one leg carefully thrown over his calves. For a few minutes there’s nothing but unhurried, light kissing, while Louis plays with the damp hair on Henry’s chest idly.

“I need to go check on the boat.” The last thing he wants to do is move, but he doesn’t want to fall asleep without making sure they are safe. 

“OK. I’ll wait here.” Squinting one eye open, Louis shoots him playful smile. 

Henry laughs, and kisses him one last time before leaving the bed to find a pair of trousers somewhere.

When he comes back Louis is on his side, and covered with a sheet, though his feet are peeking out the bottom and his head is still toward the foot of the bed. 

“Everything OK?” he asks drowsily. 

Henry takes a seat on the edge of the bed, and smooths back his hair from his face. “Everything’s fine, angel.”

Louis nods, and reaches for his hand to tickle his fingers over his palm. “Are you hungry?” he asks, sleepiness clearly dispelling.

“For you, always.” 

“And for lunch?” he asks, rolling his eyes but giggling. 

“I’m starving, as you said I’d be.”

Louis laughs, and raises himself on one elbow. “We should eat then.”

“Do you want to help me prepare something?” Henry asks, grinning, eyebrows raised. His grin softens when Louis rubs the wedding band on his finger and looks up at him with a soft smile.

“Yes. I do.”

Henry can’t resist leaning in to kiss him—a few more times before they get started on lunch, half dressed and relaxed and content. 

When they get back on land, Louis declares they need to go sailing again soon.

**Author's Note:**

> [Liz](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/holdingthornsandroses) asked for a PWP-ish louvill drabble set in Italy. Here it is... more or less. It wouldn't be me without a touch of hurt/comfort. On the other hand, I never thought I'd be writing daddy kink, but it felt right - hopefully not just to me, haha.
> 
> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated as always. Thank you for reading! 
> 
> \- 
> 
> Title from this alleged Franklin D. Roosevelt quote: "To reach a port we must set sail. Sail, not tie at anchor. Sail, not drift."


End file.
